Sanctuary
by Sincosma
Summary: Kindness is paid forward, not back. Sanctuary is not a place; it is kind company. Perhaps...I'm here to help you find your sanctuary. AU link/male!Sheik, slash, slow burn.
1. Dreams

Sanctuary

 _Sincosma_

A/N: While based loosely on Ocarina of Time, this is mostly AU. This is a slash pairing and Sheik is a male.

Rating: M for blood, gore, and mention of torture.

Disclaimer: I am not making any profit from this works. Rights go to Nintendo. 

* * *

|1. Dreams|

It was on one unremarkable day that it happened.

Deep in winter's icy breath, Link woke to the familiar sensation of cold and warm at once. His hands, feet, and face were frozen while the rest of his body was warm. It was a confusing sensation he had grown too accustomed to, the dim morning light a weak filter through ice-crusted windows. The fire in the stove pot had long burned out and he sat up with a quiet groan, facing the miserable cold to chase away his lethargy.

His morning rolled begrudgingly into motion as the fire was rekindled and his breakfast of beans and hard jerky was eaten in a silence only punctuated by the occasional song bird or distant bark of wild dogs. The small cabin creaked ever so slightly as a brisk wintry wind pressed the southern wall and the crack of ice abandoning its post on the stoop broke him from his unintentional stare at a leaning white tree out the window.

The day would be quiet and it would be his, as all days were those past six years.

Or he had thought it would be his until, in the prelude of a growing storm over the mountain peaks, Link heard the unmistakable crunch of a two-legged visitor. And maybe _visitor_ was too kind a title—he had seen many a horror in his day to be so naïve to think this person meant well. Old habits were hard to leave behind and he held a dagger close as he shoved the door open through the piled snow outside.

Standing several strides away, a man swathed in thick white furs, hood, and cowl regarded him with mismatched eyes. A red iris watched while a cloudy white one did not, the former a shock of blood against the forever-white backdrop. He carried no weapon save a white staff, perfect and straight with a raw and red stone fixed to its top. The stranger leaned heavily on it and Link realized quickly that the man posed little threat, clearly exhausted and starved.

"Good morning," he called to the newcomer, voice rough from much disuse.

"And to you," the man returned, bowing his head in respect. "I do not mean to disturb you, but a storm comes and wondered if I might seek shelter until it passes. I can pay, of course."

Link felt himself start at the familiar language of the Goddesses; many people spoke it in this land but the cadence here was a far reach from that of Hyrule. This man's voice was accented in a familiar yet foreign way, reminding Link painfully of the deserts from his birthplace; it wasn't exactly a pleasant memory but those times were long behind him.

He glanced to one of the mountains standing guard against the west, the overcast sky a rolling, matte black and wicked winds fraying the powder of its summit. Yes, a storm would reach them soon and Link knew too well what traveling through one was like. A few moments passed as he deliberated this and the stranger stood patient despite the growing wind.

"I need no money, though I thank you. Come in and take shelter, traveler," Link said, attempting to smile in welcome.

The man bowed his head once more. "I appreciate it."

Once the door was closed to the gathering blizzard and the warmth ambled back into their limbs, Link tried his best to play host. It was a muscle long lost to atrophy but he poured two cups of tea and beckoned them to sit at the small table by his cot, looking out through the window slowly congesting with white powder.

"My name is Link," he offered as they sat. "Forgive me if my manners are lacking—it's been nearly many winters since I shared my company with someone longer than a few minutes."

The newcomer pushed back his thick fur hood to reveal a mess of long, dark blonde hair, but the cowl stayed intact. "I am Sheik," came the reply. "And I've spent nearly the same time away from people as well. Company is company so worry not, Link."

The name and Sheik's appearance rang a sharp bell in Link's mind and he frowned at the dark memories it summoned once more.

"You're sheikah."

A red eye and blind one widened as gloved hands pushed down the cowl. A sharp, bronze-skinned face stood out from the white light, two especially thick, white cicatrices could be seen at his pronounced cheek bone, dragging downward in parallel lines to his neck and out of sight. Perhaps that were inflicted at the same time as those that damaged his eye. Link shuddered to think what had caused such a collection of scars

Much like himself, a beard framed Sheik's jaw, a nomadic trait earned from years without care, the blonde such a strange contrast with darker skin. Despite all the damage, it was a strong and handsome face, much like the people Link remembered from his homeland.

"I thought you might be hylian," Sheik said, voice full of surprise as his mouth bent into a slight smile. "I did not expect to find a neighbor so far from Hyrule."

 _Neighbor_. What a kind term. Link tensed ever so slightly as he tried to determine whether the comment was sincere or condescending. He prayed that this meeting would not end in violence; perhaps Sheik had been away for so long he did not know what happened to his people.

The face before him was genuine, however, so Link forced himself to relax.

"I left during the war." Link wasn't quite sure what made him say it, but he felt the words leave his lips unbidden. It was a subject that would be forever tender, and he wondered if it would alight anything in his company.

The fire had chased away the frigid air he'd woken up to and Link began to feel his nose once more in the steam of the tea. Link sipped from the ceramic mug and left the words to hang in lukewarm air as the expected darkness passed over his company's face. He looked away feeling strangely like staring would be inconsiderate.

"I left before it."

Link brought his gaze back to the sheikah, continuing to find new things every time he looked. Now he saw the scar warping the man's left eyebrow, just above the blinded eye. Throughout his mane of thick hair, little braids long-made snuck in and out of view like serpents, so tangled they were practically dreaded. In his campaign through the war Link could recall the skills of the sheikah—they were the only race in Hyrule to train only as mages and, judging by the handsome staff against the wall, Sheik was no exception. Link had always been deeply impressed by their prowess over magic in combat, both as allies and as...

He violently pushed his mind away from the thoughts.

"But I see you were not spared violence even so," Link remarked. After the words left his mouth he could've smacked himself. Being away from people had really ruined his discretion and he could only hope he had not insulted his guest.

"I have been to places that make the wars of Hyrule appear tame." Sheik let out a cynical chuckle. "Sheikah are no strangers to violence, Link."

The words were too real, making Link want to get up from the table. But he stayed still. Glad for his luck, he made a mental note to think a little harder before he spoke next. The tea was finished and Sheik gratefully accepted a second cup as well as food. It was admitted by his guest that his rations had run out two days prior and Link gladly offered everything he had—with more meat stored in the snow it was no trouble to share.

Guilt also played a massive factor as he eagerly offered up his own food.

"You were a soldier," Sheik commented after a while, nodding to the unmistakable Crown-issued sword leaned against the wall by the door. The Crest was etched deeply into the scabbard, the gold plating long-eroded from the constant cleaning of blood and gore. It was a cold, hard memory that he kept close whenever stray thoughts of returning home wandered into his mind.

A deep dread sank into Link's stomach as he waited for Sheik to bring up the genocide. How could he not? But Link would oblige the questions, hoping he wouldn't have a need to grab the weapon from the wall.

"The youngest captain in the Royal Army," Link said with a nod. "I deserted shortly before the conclusion of the civil war, at eighteen. I refused to follow orders."

"You left with no honor." There was no judgment in his voice—instead there was a solemn understanding.

Did Sheik really not know?

"There is no honor in war for greed." Link tapped his fingers restlessly against the rough ceramic, eyes wandering to worn wood grains. "I would not kill innocents. I felt I had more than served my time to the Crown."

A quiet fell over the cabin as, suddenly, Link became aware of the blizzard swirling around outside. The lack of conversation was not tense but somehow companionable and he found himself surprised with how easily words had left him, even as he mentioned some of the most condemning events of his past. As a traveler of solitude, speaking his mind had never been his strong suit yet here, with a perfect stranger that should hate him by all rights, Link's past was laid out as easily as what he ate for dinner the previous night. Clearly Sheik was ignorant to the specifics of the war and Link would spare the sadness, anger, and betrayal sharing the news would bring.

 _Let the dead lie_ , he thought to himself in resignation.

Over time, they wandered back to discussion, the storm still moaning away beyond the whited-out windows.

"Were you of the Kakariko tribe?"

"Yes, although I was born in the desert," Sheik confirmed with a short nod. "A sickness took most years before the war, robbing us of a third of our people. The ones who survived—my family and I included—left to serve the Crown or moved on to the eastern mountain ranges, leaving Hyrule forever."

The sheikah of the Crown; Link had known many of them by name, their faces burned into his nightmares.

There was a startling sadness to Sheik's words, the lonely meaning of the story filling the void that his toneless voice left. Loss was a hammer stroke that shattered both of their lives and Link knew its swing all too well.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Sheik." And he meant it more now than any other time those words had left his mouth.

"Loss is strength. Without loss we learn nothing of the value of life." The sheikah's words in tandem with the lonely howl of the blizzard were the most poignant things Link had heard in years, cracking open doors deep below his skin that had long since been shut in his chosen exile.

"The war's end, as I hear it, was six winters past. Have you been traveling that long?" Sheik inquired during their third cup of tea.

Link nodded, drawing his eyes away from the blank window once more. "I visited the surrounding kingdoms for many of those years. And when the other end of the continent was not enough, I crossed the sea and found these lands. To my surprise, tundra suits me rather well. And you?"

"I came here much sooner. I lived for a year or so in a city at the coast but after all my years growing up under the sun, I too found the tundra more comfortable. This is my first journey deep this particular valley, so you may imagine my surprise to see a hylian here with the same idea." But Sheik didn't look at all dismayed at this and even smiled a bit more. "After many years alone, this is the first company to be so easy."

Link understood the words more than he could articulate. It was always difficult for those who had seen too much to connect with those who hadn't. War, grief, and darkness made unmovable marks, changing its victims on the deepest of levels. It was so rare to find another that understood it and Link couldn't remember the last time he had.

If only he could shake off the guilt.

"It is," Link agreed, wondering if the Goddesses had brought this man to punish him for his crimes.

The day pushed on, the blizzard ever-constant and conversation peppered throughout the hours. Sheik had taken to reading from a leather-bound book he carried, and Link carved nothing of interest out of a chunk of wood. Scraps still lingered here and there throughout the cabin since its construction the previous summer and it had been his unconscious mission to make something out of all of them. Wasting the wood felt wrong even if all he managed was a misshapen thing possibly resembling a bear.

And when night began to fall and candles were lit, Sheik gave him a questioning look.

"You're welcome to stay and take my cot," Link offered.

"No, I am more accustomed to a bedroll—keep your cot."

He seemed insistent enough so Link nodded, settled into his bed. The storm showed no signs of stopping, even in suffocating darkness, but Link was sure that even if it _had_ stopped, Sheik would be staying regardless.

He wondered if it was out of kindness or guilt.

Nothing else was said that night as, on opposite sides of the cabin, they fell into slumbers despite the cacophony beyond the walls and the still very new trust between them. And for the first time in nearly a year Link had a new dream:

 _He stood on the battlefield, his comrades among him, just as unsure as he. Before them lay the sheikah encampment. It was a small cluster of tents to house the sheikah loyal to the Crown. Their allies._

 _Their friends._

 _In Link's fist, crumpled in tense rage, was the order to exterminate them. To betray them. Why had the order been given? In a time of such darkness, why would their lord endeavor to turn them all against each other? With such a long history of genocide, why had the King chosen to subject such a valuable people to it again?_

 _He felt fury. He felt his own sort of betrayal._

 _But orders were orders and Link had taken his oath, so his garrison had insisted. They pushed him forward, implying that he was too young to understand how to follow a direct order, quoting their lord's claims. The King had told them the sheikah were traitors, that they had leaked the vital secrets responsible for the most recent decimation of a hidden refugee camp. That the sheikah had sold Crown secrets to the enemy for a handsome price. Even that the sheikah had stolen from the Princess Zelda herself._

 _Could it possibly be true?_

 _Time flashed quickly before him and he killed the first sheikah warrior to fight back—it was clearly their chief. He was tall and lean, skin the color of burnt gold and hair soaked with his own blood as Link held him. The rest of his men ignored Link's orders to cease the attack; they slaughtered without mercy._

" _I'm sorry," Link pleaded to the fallen sheikah, closing the man's scarlet eyes and feeling a horrible nausea creep up his throat. "I'm so sorry."_

 _The sounds of the massacre permeated around him, an all-too-familiar symphony of the past three years in his career. The cycle of hatred, the endless and pointless fighting like animals…would it see no end? How far would it go? To what lengths would the races reach to possess that infernal Triforce? What glory could it possibly bring to a kingdom now soaked in blood?_

 _Link could not end the war, but he could end his part in it._

 _The walls of the gorge closed them all in, the stone seeming to grow taller as the sun left them to fading darkness. Only the fires of burning tents illuminated the bodies. His men left him for the river on the other side of the gorge. Despite their coaxing, their captain would not rise, unwilling to release his hold the body of a fallen sheikah. They shook their heads, called him a traitor, and said they'd be back for him after they washed up in the river._

 _Link sat with the sheikah, silent as the fires slowly began to die. He cared not if they came back for him. Link reached up and tore the marks of a captain off his cloak, tore the Royal Crest from his sleeve._

 _So many had he killed in the name of the King, convinced it was for an honest, glorious cause. Countless lives had he passed judgment on, fueled by the infectious passion their lord had set alight in the youthful blood of his battalions._

 _Never once had Link thought for himself or that the King's words were_ _a cover for his greedy conquest—they were all lies._ _He had not seen the truth until he stared down at the pale, lifeless face of the sheikah chief he had once called his comrade._

"Link _."_

 _His eyes shot up, arms still supporting the dead sheikah chief as a figure moved slowly through the bodies, careful to tread on none of the fallen. He was wrapped in white furs, the bottom stained crimson as it trailed behind him._

 _It was Sheik, so vivid and stark against the orange light of the battlefield._

 _His gaze was magnetic, everything else falling away as the sheikah stopped before him to offer his staff. It was smooth and flawless in the half light, cold and firm in his grip as Link stood and accepted it. His eyes wandered its length, coming to rest at the red stone mounted at its top. It pulsed before him, whispering in Sheikah, a language he had never had a chance to learn. Link looked once again to Sheik, unable to find his voice as that luminous red eye held him as though shackled._

" _Don't let him leave."_

Link opened his eyes, thin morning light muffled through snow-covered windows, his breath a puff of moisture in the frozen cabin. The dream disturbed him and he forced himself up to survey the cabin. The sheikah was still asleep, broad furred back facing him as it rose and fell in measured breaths. Link knew he should feel strange about the living person still there…but he couldn't. Now that Sheik was there it felt even stranger for him to leave.

 _Don't let him leave._

They woke for the day and Link prepared breakfast for them both, the storm long passed. Sheik spoke of moving on, giving Link his solitude back and no longer imposing, but Link cut him off.

"Actually," he said, "how about you stay?" 

* * *

This fic was heavily influenced by the song White Foxes by Susanne Sundfør—a lot of the themes and imagery come from it. Take a listen if you have a chance—it's a super cool song.

For those of you that are new to my work, I'm the writer of Congruent. It's a _much_ bigger work (~200k) of this pairing and is now complete. If you're into shink (specifically male sheik), definitely check out Congruent. Click on my name and you can find it on my profile or read it on Ao3 (my name is Sincosma over there as well).

Other places to find me:

Sincosma on Tumblr

amandalynnsings on Instagram

ohamandalynn on snapchat

amandalynnsings . c o m for my music

Thank you for reading!


	2. Warning

|2. Warning|

"The herd is half a league southwest, towards the other peak."

Sheik crouched down in the snow next to the tree Link had been waiting behind, sweat plastering golden hair to his dark forehead and adrenaline shining in his garnet eye.

Link was glad to see such an animated look on his friend's face—they had been cooped up inside for nearly a week due to the most recent, unforgiving storm. It had worn on them both…but perhaps on Sheik a bit more. There had been a restlessness about him in the past few nights and when that morning brought clear skies, they nearly tripped over themselves to force their way out of the cabin, the deep snow against the door hardly an obstacle in their vigor. Though they had plenty of food still, they went out in the woods hunting for game more for their minds than their stomachs.

"Good," Link said quietly, checking over his bow out of habit and moving to his feet. But Sheik reached out and stilled him with a firm grip over his leather gauntlet. "What is it?"

Link mistook the animation in the sheikah's eyes for excitement; it was actually worry.

"I found something else," Sheik replied, voice uneasy and eyes flitting back to survey the area around them. "Link, how many people do you know of that live in these mountains?"

A creeping chill began to roll over Link's shoulders, mind firing off in five different directions of apprehension. But he answered obediently. "Only a few. They all keep to themselves, however. I don't even know their names."

"Come with me."

Link followed closely to his companion, weaving through trees, and stepping methodically through the deep snow. A few minutes passed in muted light, Link a bundle of nerves at Sheik's unspoken revelation. He imagined Sheik was not the type to spook, so whatever the man had found didn't bode well.

The smell of smoke greeted his nose as they stepped down into a small dip in the terrain. Before he could wonder at its origins, he saw the source in front of them.

Three men lay dead, half-buried in the snow, two of them solitary men of the mountain and the other—

"This is a soldier of Hyrule," Link whispered, instantly equal parts stunned and stressed. "I would recognize that uniform anywhere."

"As would I." He glanced over at Sheik and saw mirrored tension there.

Link surveyed the area, the campfire still embers, half hidden in the white landscape. Evidence of the raid could be seen in the items strewn across the camp. Clearly someone had riffled through the mountain men's belongings. Any other signs of the skirmish were hidden under the freshly fallen snow, however. It must have been several hours since it occurred, the now brownish remnants of blood still visible under a shallow, frosty layer.

But that wasn't the most alarming thing they found.

The hylian soldier lay straight, hands crossed over his chest on the hilt of his sword—it was the position of a soldier put to rest. Some or many had survived the fight to ensure their comrade did not die without honor. There were no longer any tracks, the number of soldiers hidden from their knowledge by the weather.

Nonetheless, it was enough to disturb Link deeply.

"We're leaving. Now." His words were short and quiet to the sheikah, who gave a quick nod in return and followed Link's lead.

The travel back to their cabin was not a long one but Link worried for the tracks they would leave. Sheik was a step ahead of him, casting a spell to erase their footprints after the moment they were made. Grateful to have a skilled mage with him, Link quickly led the way back to safety.

Every shadow seemed a bit sinister now and Link couldn't determine why. It wasn't as though the scene far behind them now had anything to do with either of them. It wasn't out of the question that any adventurous hylian was perfectly capable of crossing the ocean. Perhaps the King had sent soldiers to explore new land, looking for kingdoms to trade with.

They might have decided to travel north of the mountains to the city Link had heard of and caused an altercation with the strange and reclusive nomads that frequented the mountains. Hyrule soldiers were never known for their tact or placid nature, so they may have taken any provisions the mountain men were carrying.

There were so many reasons for what he had seen, least of all that these soldiers' presence had had anything to do with them. But even as they reached their cabin, nervous eyes swept the landscape around them and stress coiled in their shoulders as the door was closed and latched tightly shut.

Neither of them spoke for some time, no efforts made to rekindle their fire and make tea—there was an unspoken consensus that creating smoke was unwise. Sitting in their seats at the crooked table, staring sightlessly out the window, it seemed Sheik would be the first one to break their silence.

"They were looking for something," Sheik remarked, eyes dark and brows furrowed. "That much is clear."

As much as Link wanted to convince himself that the event _wasn't_ the result of an aggressive search, the truth was too loud to ignore.

"I agree," Link said, "but it's hardly our business."

"That site is two leagues from this cabin. I believe that would qualify as our business."

"Who knows why they're out here," Link deflected. "It's foolish to think that, just as easily as you and I travelled here, men from Hyrule couldn't as well. The reasons for their presence here are endless."

"Since you arrived here, have you encountered a single person from Hyrule? Am I not the first you've met?" the sheikah asked, a desperate quality to his voice that sent a tremor of worry through Link's chest.

"You…are correct."

"Then don't you think it's too coincidental that, in the middle of a dense mountain range, during more savage winters than Hyrule has even known, hundreds of leagues from the capital to the south, that an unknown number of hylian soldiers just stumbled here?" Sheik gave him an expectant look.

Link growled in frustration, rubbing at the cold sweat on his forehead. Sheik was right, of course. He had kept himself safely in denial on the way home but now, in the face of those hard, contrasting eyes and the cowl lowered to reveal a scowl, Link could escape it no more.

"Okay. Yes, you're right, Sheik. But if they were here for us, for whatever reason, how could they _possibly_ know to come here?" Link insisted, tone as reasoning as he could manage.

A look of dread passed over Sheik's face like a shadow.

"Not us," Sheik corrected in a far quieter voice. "Me. They're here for me."

Link began shaking his head before he could even find his voice to negate the statement.

"No, Sheik, you weren't involved in the war. I was a captain. My father was a _general_. It would be me—"

"Link, I lived in the capital city for a time, before my travels here," the sheikah said, speaking over Link's argument, and shaking his head as well. "I have no answers for _what_ they could want from me, but there's no reason they would know you're up here. It's me, Link. I brought them here."

It had been a month since Sheik's sudden arrival, but Link still remembered every single one of their conversations in perfect detail. He'd been curious about the city, asking for stories of the coast he'd never seen. Sheik had spent months in that city, living at an inn and working at its bar. People would know him, know his name, and be able to easily describe him to anyone that came asking. Unfortunately, Sheik was probably right. Whatever had brought the soldiers to the mountains, Sheik _was_ the most likely candidate.

But then, why would they attack and search a camp of innocent men?

Too quickly, the sheikah was on his feet, moving to gather his things. "I'm so sorry, Link. I've brought this upon you. I'll leave now before they find this place."

Link was on his feet too, faster than he realized, pulling at Sheik's arm to stop him. "No, be quiet. I will not allow you to leave if you think you've burdened me in some way. You brought nothing upon me. You know I only stay here for the winters. We'll just leave early this year."

"I cannot ask you to risk your life—"

"You're not asking anything of me," Link argued, voice growing hard. "Neither of us have any idea what these soldiers are actually looking for. Sure, perhaps they followed you here based on what the people in the city told them, but what about the camp we just saw? Those dead men and their searched belongings leads me to believe they don't know _who_ they're looking for. It seems like they're looking for an _object_ instead. If it's a Hyrulean object, of course they would follow the lead of a sheikah mage heading for the mountains. But what makes you think leaving will somehow benefit me when they find a defector of the Royal Army living in a cabin, still carrying his crown-issued sword?"

Logic was clearly winning as Sheik paused his efforts. It also spared Link from being herded into an attempt to articulate the more emotional reasons why he didn't want them to part ways. Even Link didn't understand what he felt, but the visions of his dream that first night had never left him, as though it were a vague shape that had imprinted on his vision after too long a glance at a campfire. The companionship they had fostered in just a month was enough to solidify his resolve.

"We pack and leave before nightfall. It will be cold and arduous, but we're not safe here any longer." Link finally released Sheik's arm, having not noticed he still held it. "Neither of us."

It was midday when they left, although it hardly looked it.

They pulled their frozen food from the snow and filled their packs to the brim with all they could. If not for the threat, it would've been another three weeks before Link would normally leave. Luckily, Sheik had long subscribed to Link's nomadic lifestyle—there was no terrain he was unwilling to traverse and no desire to settle anywhere.

As Link secured the door to his cabin until next winter, Sheik waited behind him and said, "I still don't understand."

Link glanced back curiously.

"I was shocked enough when you invited me to stay, a perfect stranger despite our shared homeland," Sheik told him slowly. "Though I didn't know if it was out of kindness, loneliness, or both, I was content to stay in such good company. But now…" his eyebrows knitted even closer together, warping the scar through his eyebrow, "when it's clear I am a liability, you are willing to keep me in your company. Forgive me for my rudeness—I don't mean to question your motives. But I want to know why."

Link knew the inquiry would eventually be spoken. Abridged versions of the question had been prompted here and there throughout the past month but Link had answered each one vaguely. _It was mutually beneficial in such a harsh winter. It was good to have the company. Where else would Sheik go? The winter could easily kill him._ They were all valid reasons. But, of course, Sheik would sense something deeper beneath it and Link wasn't sure he was ready to concede the dream and its message.

"I'm bad at words," he finally replied. "But, would it not suffice to say that I consider you my friend?"

There was surprise in the sheikah's face. Surprise and a warm expression he had never seen before.

"That would suffice."

With that, they left the cabin behind them and began their trek to a pass that could potentially be impassable. But their options were limited—in the heart of the mountains, the western path was their best chance out of the enclosing cage of peaks. It was also the way to the Glass Lake, which lie northwest. The northern pass was too high in altitude, the mountains too tight together making the path narrow and winding. If a sudden storm hit, an avalanche would likely claim their lives. Sheik trusted Link's knowledge of the range and agreed to the plan.

Their journey through the sheer climbs and steep drops was trying. The frigid wind whittled at their strength, as the meager light from the winter sun slipped by for only a handful of hours. Link swiveled his head behind them so often, the muscles of his neck cramped tightly in protest. Sheik seemed no better; every stop for rest was held in tense silence and ever-wandering eyes.

When they found a small cave before darkness fell, it was the sweetest of blessings after such a stressful day. They chased out an angry wolf and took refuge from the unforgiving wind. A storm hit soon after their arrival, making them all the more grateful for its shelter. With the whistling blizzard to obscure the smoke, they allowed themselves a fire to cook their meat without fear of discovery. Paranoia had lingered over them like a heavy fog all day and the reprieve from it finally cleared their minds.

"The chances of us being followed are slim," Link said after a while. "Especially with that little spell of yours covering our footprints."

"That little spell of mine is more complex than you think," Sheik said with a tired sigh. "It's using a lot of my energy…but it's worth it. I agree—it's doubtful we're being followed."

Link gave him a worried look. "Don't overdo it, Sheik."

But the sheikah waved him off, pulling his bit of cooked meat from the hastily made skewer and eating it impatiently. Link couldn't blame him either—they were both famished and willing to burn their mouths for the benefit of their empty stomachs.

"So," Link began after a while, "have any ideas what they're after yet?"

Sheik shook his head, pushing back his wind-blown hair. "Nothing dire enough to bring hylian soldiers across the sea to Iryo and into the harsh White Keaton Mountains."

"Iryo?" Link repeated. "Is that what this kingdom is called?"

Sheik gave him a puzzled look. "You've been here for years, but you never bothered to learn its name?"

Before he could stop it, a laugh bubbled up in Link's chest. No, he hadn't once stopped to ask anyone the name of the land or its rivers or its mountains. It was a nameless landscape that he had made his own and learning their names now after so long was almost hysterical to him. And before he knew it Sheik was joining him, their guffaws echoing back and forth in the misshapen cavern.

"Yes, o' observant one. This kingdom is called Iryo and its capital city is Gold Harbor on the coast to the south." Sheik shook his head, red eye bright with amusement. "They are barely aware of Hyrule or any other countries across the sea, I've learned. The people of Gold Harbor especially, keep to themselves, an attractive quality to me when I first arrived."

"Is it beautiful?"

"Stunning."

Silence returned save for the squall outside the cave and the light crackle of flames before them. Although it was getting late, neither moved to sleep or discuss watches. Link's mind was sluggish in his exhaustion but still buzzing from nerves. The sudden departure from the cabin hadn't bothered him as it likely would have most people—being a nomad for so long had trained him to understand that everything was temporary. The unknown _did_ bother him, however. And, more than anything, he couldn't seem to ward a sense of guilt from his thoughts.

What if they were after _Link_? What if they had used some sort of tracking spell to find him? The Princess Zelda was known for her premonitions—what if she had seen where he was? Were they there to take him back to Hyrule and try him for his crimes against the crown? He _was_ an officer that had deserted in the middle of the war. But was it really so serious they would cross the sea to find him? As Sheik had said earlier during their travels, it was all conjecture. But perhaps this was a favorable unknown—their plan was to put as much distance between them and the mountains as possible.

As if Sheik knew the subject of Link's thoughts, he nodded towards the weapon resting against Link's shoulder and asked, "If you deserted the Royal Army and detest the crown, why do you still carry their sword?"

There was no judgment there; only curiosity.

"It's a reminder of…what I've done, I suppose."

The sheikah frowned, a common expression over the past day. "You deserve to move on, Link. Even if the war forced you to commit acts you regret, you deserve a chance to start over."

"Starting over isn't so simple, I've learned. War doesn't just _happen_ ; it marks you in a way that lingers even after its passing," Link said quietly. "Violence changes people. Sometimes you can see it," he gestured to Sheik's blind eye, "sometimes you can't," he finished, pointing to himself.

Sheik gave a grim smile, reaching up as though out of habit to run his finger over the scar. It stretched from eyebrow, over eyelid, and down to cheekbone. It was the kind of scar the boys in Link's battalion talked about getting. They thought it was cool, the badge of a ruthless and brave warrior. Link, maybe sometime in his early youth, might've agreed with them. But now, seeing the damage and the solemnity in which Sheik carried it, he knew it had nothing to do with bravery.

The scar was a consequence of living, proof that men were evil and staying alive was far braver than fighting because a tyrant with a crown ordered you to.

Since Sheik's arrival in his life, Link had caught himself several times, nearly risking rudeness to ask about that haunting, white blind eye. Now that a month's companionship had brought them close enough for Sheik to ask about Link's sword and the Hyrulean Civil War, perhaps it was appropriate to finally scratch that curious itch. But Sheik beat him to it.

"I found a ruined city on the coast, before I crossed the ocean. It was there I was captured and held for two winters by rogue, evil men that believed dark skin was a sign of impurity. My scars are evidence of their hatred. I just barely escaped, on death's doorstep and desperate. A much kinder man found me, starving and bleeding out in the dirt. He saved me without hesitation, as though I were his kin. When I was well enough, he gave me one of his boats to cross the sea. I knew nothing was left for me in Hyrule and this stranger was willing to help me leave. When I asked him why he was helping me, he told me that kindness was an exchange, only not in the circular way most think it is. Kindness is paid forward, not back. The man told me someone had helped him long ago and only asked for one thing in return: _I helped you find sanctuary, so now you must help the next person find it too_."

Sheik fell quiet for a moment, studying Link's face for a long moment. And Link couldn't bring himself to look away from such a powerful gaze.

"Perhaps…I found you to somehow pay it forward," Sheik said in a soft voice. "Perhaps I'm here to help _you_ find _your_ sanctuary."

 _Don't let him leave_.

The dream was a heavy reminder in Link's mind, as though a tree had begun to sprout from a single spot; it was getting bigger each day, replacing some of his self-imposed loneliness with…hope.

 _Hope_.

"Yes…perhaps you are." Link couldn't help but smile.

Sheik just smiled back.

* * *

An enormous thank you to my best friend Mariah for beta-ing this chapter and last chapter. I might be a professional proofreader but my skills don't seem to apply to my own work.

Thanks for reading!


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